Within the Lies stills Madness
by FantasyxReality
Summary: With the shared sense of a nameless entity and clues of ordinary turned to insanity, four completely different people join together in desperation, secrecy, lies and discovery to pull through the fog and find the truth behind their own fear and darkness. Will they succeed or will the madness turn their minds against themselves?


David

The mirror was a blur... The glass was smeared with the shower's hot steam and blotches of blood from razor mishaps. The two liquids gradually began to slide down the upright surface- now a thin stream of pink splattering along the white of the sink's rim. Staining the knuckles of the hands that laid there. Until one slowly heightened itself to approach the mirror's face. The stained fingertips gave a gentle swipe along its dirtied crystal cheek to reveal blackened eyes looking in return. Those eyes of a man who hadnt slept in weeks who took hot showers to lull him and yet scraped at the bruised skin with rusty razors to keep his body alert and bleeding. "David?" The dark eyes shifted away from its own gaze to glance at the door. The voice on the other side sounded frenzied and caring- emotional and personal. And it called his name again with urgency. "David, open up!" The eyes returned. The emptiness of the once lively expression that was David. "DAVID!" But the emptiness didnt reach past his gaze. He could still feel the twitching of agony from the jagged cuts, the dragging pull of warmth down his skin and the heavinesss in his stomach. He could still feel his heart beating and breaking. Those eyes lowered down to look at the bloody razor he still held clenched up in a fist. If he looked close enough, he could probably find bits of his own skin clogging up the spaces between the blades. He could still hear his name being called but this time by different tones and tempos. More people had arrived at his bathroom door. Urging him to come out... to continue living... to be normal again... to... The eyes began to struggle. The pupils shifting feverishly back and forth as the familiar yet despised burning began to come forth. The heaviness now longer resided in the chambers of his guts instead it was crawling... he could feel its stickiness moving through his throat- the difficulty to breath. He wanted to bring his hand to his throat, bringing the razor along to purge his body of this creature living within his veins. "DAVID!" He wanted it to end... he- "_Daddy"_ The bile faltered. _"Daddy... you're it." _He could feel the air going in and out of his body again, staggering but free. _"Bet you cant find me, Daddy. Heh."_ He rose his head away from the razor to look back at the mirror once again. Was he hearing this... in his head..? The eyes that laid there behind that glass told him nothing. And yet as he stood there, bleeding and sweating in that bathroom he felt something. He saw something... Behind that glass sheet and his ghastly appearance, another face stood. A face of a dimpled smile and sunkissed skin. Bright blue eyes and dark hair of doll's curls. Emily... His daughter's face weaved right alongside his own. Still hiding... still playing that game they never finished... the game that became a sick parody of his life. Dropping the razor, his hand hesistantly began to reach out. He wanted to touch her cheek.. to feel warmth and vibrancy in her skin... But just as his fingertips touched the glass, the reflection began to fade. "Emily!" Clawing desperately at the area of mirror that once held his daughter, David began to sob wildly- the burning from before now cooling over his cheeks. He heard nothing in response to his call not even from the other side of that door. That was when he realized... this game was only meant for him... it was between Emily and he... and whoever sneakily interrupted without clarifying the rules. He wouldnt die today in this bathroom, sobbing over this illusion. Wiping the tears from his face, David looked up to find there was no reflection of dark eyes. Instead there stood a mask of white.

Marcy

The stick figures danced in a pool of black liquid. She watched as their arms, legs and faces became alive. As they all portrayed the feeling of nothingness with their flat expressions spreading across the damp sheets. Dripping down the edges once traced in memories of innocence and fantasy where her fingerprints painted imagination. _"Look!" _A teenage girl with raven hair and huge eyes sat in a chair. A chair that was too small for someone her age. For her bare knees, bent, almost touched the hunched over chest that only withdrew ever so often at each inhale. _"Isnt it pretty?" _Her huge blue eyes stared at the mess before her. Fixating on the broken mug the coffee once sat in now in pieces across the table. Each angle catching a light that managed to slip in from the curtains and shining it in the most brilliant way. Like diamonds of art. _"Do you like it?" _ A soft hiccup slipped from her lips before the sharp squeal of laughter. The maniacal sound lasted a few minutes before it ended just as it started- with a hiccup. And in that moment, the girl leaned forward to grab the brightest shard. The only one to contain a pearl of coffee in the girth of its piece. One last drop. With an outstretched tongue, the drop was quickly consumed with a nick from the ravageness of trying to obtain all of it. The copper taste strangely complimented the bitterness. And it was appreciated for she had enough of sugary sweetness that her tongue could no longer hold it. Which would explain her sudden enthusiasm of cursing. Or maybe she had always wanted to use the word "fuck". After all this was some twisted freedom. "You lose one thing to gain another... No pain... no gain". The words tasted far too bitter. And she despise whoever invented that fucking saying. Maybe he was the other guest to this wretched tea party. Looking across the table, she stared at the empty seat. Maybe he wanted to converse with her over sweets and drink before acclaiming the editor of her life story. Pen ready to jot down whatever else he would discover wrong with her through small talk. Laughing again, she tossed the once valued glass piece to the floor. It was like having a therapist. Something she often tried like a new brand of coffee before spitting it out left only with a scalding tongue and disgusted disappointment. Her eyes left the empty space of her companion to once again look over the scattered pages. The pages with happy stick figures drowning in her misery. With two words of disappearing with them. Susy Laine. And in the back of her throat, she could feel that bitterness returning. _"See, I spelled my name!" _Susie... _"S-U-S-Y" _"Ie... Susie... your name is S-U-S-I-E" She remembered hating how frequent that conversation was... on each new drawing, this correction would be brought up again. Along with the urge to curse in irritation before letting Susie win in the end with her "Y". But Susie was gone... and so was her damn "Y". Suddenly the drawings, crayons, broken mug and table toppled over to the ground. The girl, now breathing heavily with hands flying, screamed out finally releasing her freedom with bitter laughter. "Your fucking name is Susie... S-U-S-I-E!" And the stick figures and name silently wallowed in her mess, shriveling up in a pool of black.

Tyler

They kept wiggling. How did they keep wiggling? The young man's eyes gazed in wonder at the writhing tentacles spread along a cutting board. Their ink black form twisting and turning along the gloved hands that bound them. As if sensing the danger of becoming like the others- nicely diced pieces of sushi to be served. It was hard to believe people act such creepy creatures but he wasnt one to shy away from challenges. He watched as the chef's right hand lifted up in the air, carrying with execution a sharpened blade before bringing it down. A series of pattered thuds followed along until the gruff voice grunted at him with the plate. He hadnt even noticed the tentacles being placed along a place. "Uh, thanks.." He muttered to the chef whose back was already turned before looking down at the plate. What was he thinking? Even dead, these things still creeped him out... Poking one piece with a chopstick, the man was surprised with a jolt from the creature. "Fucking... crazy."

(Im not completely done with Tylers Introduction and the fourth character has yet to be told.. but tell me what you think, I am writing this as I go along so any advice or even requests would be great ^^ To be Continued.. soon I promise)


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